Her Last Vow
by LadyofTimeandDeductions
Summary: Irene Adler was back in London, living under the shadows just like a dead woman should. But then Charles Agustus Magnussen happened. She was forced to step into the light even if it meant an eminent fate. Then she would be forced both willingly and unwillingly to speak. A silent vow. Her last vow. {S03 AU / HLV AU}
1. Chapter 1

**This isn't really a season 3 AU. It's more of a HLV AU. It's season 3 but told from the point of view of Irene Adler. So nothing changes in Sherlock and John's point of view. The things that happened in the 3 episodes still happened. Except I added something for HLV. Please enjoy! :)**

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_Sh*t!_

The voices behind were coming closer. She took out her phone and dialed for the umpteenth time. She raised her it to her ear and looked around the carpeted hallways of the hotel. Not much options and definitely not the fire exit.

_Beep beep beep..._

She wanted to hurl her phone against the wall. Another curse rolled down her tongue. There was no time, she's got no one to pick her up. Actually she's got no one at all at the moment.

The voices grew louder. The elevator was also not an option. She ran to her right and saw a hotel maid just coming out of a room. Her eyes sparkled. The maid came out of the room and proceeded to pushing her cart to the next room down the end of the hallway.

_Oh, yes..._

She sprinted to catch the door before it closed and she caught it just in time. She sighed in relief and entered the room, leaving the task of closing to the springs of the door. She turned around in confusion when the door closed a few seconds late.

Irene realized she wasn't alone. The girl looked at her with eyes filled with fear. The girl mumbled something she couldn't hear

Irene put a finger to the girl's lips and pinned her against the wall. The girl's eyes widened in fear. She removed her finger and clamped her hand over her mouth, whispering "Shh..." Muffled voices and footsteps passed by. After a few good minutes, she let the girl go. Irene walked into the room while the girl slid down against the door in relief.

Irene took out her phone to check for any calls. None. She wanted to shout out in frustration but kept her demeanor calm and composed. She had only finished the first step the next step was yet to come.

She fished her hand inside her handbag. She took out a black wig wrapped inside a clear plastic and handed it to the girl. The girl looked at her with wide eyes.

"Wear it. Don't remove it until you're far away. When we go down, I want you to act as normal as possible. As soon as we get out, you run, run far away and when you're sure no one's following you, just go, go where you want to go." she said with a hushed voice.

The girl gulped and nodded. With shaky hands, she accepted the package and stared at it for minutes.

Irene watched. The girl was terrified, of course. One second, she was being harassed by some pedophile and the next, she was escaping with a stranger who appeared out of nowhere just as something happened.

She had noticed the intentions of the man with every look he gave at all the beauties in the room. A few looks went her way too but she had known better. The man was definitely someone who doesn't succumbed easily. He was a man who does not use his brain but uses brute force to get what he want. He would surely not hesitate to hurt anyone who doesn't follow his rules especially when it comes to sexual preferences regardless of sex or gender.

She had seen the girl enter a secluded room at the back of the ballroom and men clad in black followed suit. She looked at her drink and took in a few sips. She looked up just in time to see the man close the door. She heard a muffled voice, she swore it belonged to a woman.

She closed her eyes as she set the drink on the bar table. The next minute she found herself standing in front of the door with her hand on the doorknob. The next minute she was running through the crowd with the poor girl.

She sighed. What a mess! She was supposed to meet a very important man who could give her information for her... _protection_. No, she was not back to her old profession though it would be nice to go back but you can't really blame a girl for being sure of her safety.

Irene went inside the newly cleaned room. Judging from the lack of big luggage, this room must belong to a businessman. _And businessmen always have... _She opened the closet and smirk crept to her face. _Suits and coats._

Though most were just suits, she noticed a long piece of black coat. Her hand froze over the black coat as a certain curly-haired man came to her mind. She grimaced. Now was not the time, not now. _Get out!_ She shouted at his image inside her head. She earned a piercing indescribable look from him before he vanished. She heaved a sigh and took the coat from the closet. She handed it to the girl who had just wore the wig.

"We need to go. I'm assuming the owner will be here in a few minutes..."

She noticed the unknowing look the girl was giving her. She wanted to roll her eyes but she didn't want to make the girl feel bad after what happened to her.

"His phone is on the table. He needs that for sure. Anyway, act normal. I'll be there with you but keep distance. If they see me, I'll distract them and just go the other way, understand?"

She nodded while she put the coat on. It was a bit big but it would do.

"Good."

With that, Irene opened the door and checked if there were any people. None. She nodded to the girl. As they waited for the lift, she noticed a nervous look on the girl's face. Irene placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry."

The girl looked at her with fear in her eyes. "Thank you..." the girl muttered before she scrambled inside the lift with a few people.

Irene followed her inside. It was a while since someone thanked her. It made her heart swell with happiness. She looked at the numbers decreasing slowly as they descended to the ground floor. It has truly been a while. She smiled.

When the doors opened before her, she stepped out with her usual grace but she could feel the eyes of the girl on her back. She scanned the lobby and spotted a few men that she knew would come for her. So she just walked casually until she heard a series of footsteps. She didn't have to look back, she broke into a sprint. She knew they were after her.

She got out of the hotel and ran. She cursed as she turned her head to look back. She was wearing heels, she couldn't run that fast. Plus there weren't much people to form a dense crowd but it would have to do.

She took a turn and almost bumped an old woman out of her balance.

"Sorry." she said with an apologetic look.

Now everyone was looking at her, a few glares didn't go unnoticed. She bit her lip. She really hoped the girl would be safe or else everything she did would be nothing but a waste of time and she didn't really have a lot of time.

She couldn't quite remember the name of the man but she knew the man was once a very famous actor. Thus he has a name to keep. She knew they needed to dispose of her since she might expose the dark secret of the man. But that's not going to happen. Well, not yet anyway. She will use the man for her protection after these bastards stop chasing her.

Her feet were starting to hurt with each step she made. She took out her phone and dialed again. She listened until she heard the beeping sound. She growled in frustration. She can't afford to run anymore. Her feet would most probably be bruised and battered if she ran some more. She gritted her teeth. They were still following her. She continued to run.

She noticed people were filing into the stairway towards the station.

_Perfect!_

She made her way towards them and tried to lose herself in the crowd. She squeezed between people, muttering apologies as she made her way deeper into the station.

It wasn't hard to spot the men who were chasing as they were tall and big. They really stood out in the crowd and they were still trying to look for her but so far she has the upper hand. When she got past the gates, she felt a bit relieved but she was always on guard. She sighed as she begun to feel the soreness of her feet. She has no problem with standing or walking on heels but running is another thing.

But she kept on walking, ignoring the pain that laced her every step. She looked back and sighed in relief. They were gone. She licked her dry lips and continued to walk. She knew she couldn't stop, not until she reached her flat safely. She walked with the crowd, trying to keep up with their fast pace. She walked until she had to stop and rest. She leaned against the wall. She looked around again, checking again from time to time.

Then she noticed something awfully familiar. She caught a glimpse of black coat and blonde hair that of a short man, disappearing through the grills. Her eyes widened. She watched as the blonde man close the grills behind him. She slowly walked towards the grills. When she was close enough, she heard their voices. No, _his_ voice. That rich, baritone timbre. It's not hard to distinguish that voice. Her breathing hitched. She felt her pulse elevate, her heart beat rose.

She leaned against the wall beside the grills. She closed her walls to recollect herself. She wasn't safe yet. Now was not the time to act like this. She groaned. _No..._ He flashed before her, towering above her. His pale blue eyes bore into her as if he was looking into her soul. A shiver went down her spine. He stood there with that sexy purple shirt of his and his signature long black coat flapping behind him. With his blue scarf out of the way, she could see his collarbone. They were sharp just like his cheekbones. Oh, those cheekbones. She bit down on her lip hard.

Suddenly she felt a hand clamp around her arm. She opened her eyes in alarm.

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**Reviews and comments are appreciated. Criticisms are welcomed too. If you spot any mistakes, please inform me so that I can change it :D  
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******Hoped you guys liked that or at least liked the idea :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the next one. Not my best chapter, if I must say. But it would do I hope. Please do bear with me. Enjoy :)**

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When she felt a hand on her arm, she clutched her purse tight, preparing to raise it for an attack. When she opened her eyes, she was faced with a woman, hazelnut brown hair paired with dark brown eyes.

"Irene?" the woman asked with side eyes.

Irene relaxed against the wall before she stood on her two hurting feet and smirked.

"Oh my goodness..."

The woman hugged her tightly. Irene couldn't help but smile as she returned the hug.

"I can't believe you're here. I missed you, you know." the woman said.

She pat the back of the woman. She pulled away and smiled at the woman. "I missed you too but now's not the time for this." She tilted her head to the side.

She watched as the woman's eyes sparkled with understanding. They continued to walk together. With steady hands, Irene removed her hairpins that held her do, one by one. Just as they reached the platform, the woman removed her coat and handed it to Irene.

"Being chased again, are we?" she said with a smirk on her face.

Irene took out the last pin and her hair fell waved against her back. She gave the woman a small smile before she took the coat and put it on.

"You sure you won't be cold?" Irene asked.

The woman laughed. "It's all right. My flat is just a block away from the station. Plus, it looks like you need it more than I do." She winked.

Irene smirked. The train arrived and they both got on. The carriage was full of people like always. Just as the doors were about to close, she saw the men that were chasing her, flood out into the platform. She turned her back to them and her eyes fell on the woman who was smirking, her eyes sparkling.

"Why are you here?" Irene asked.

"You're the one to ask."

That made Irene smile. She gave the woman a wink before she thanked her.

The woman crossed her arms. "You owe me."

"I know, I know." Irene waved her hand.

It was a matter of minutes before they arrived at their stop. They got off the train and walked towards the exit. When they got to the stairs, Irene took a deep breath, trying hard not to wince with every step she makes. With one last look behind her, Irene and her friend took off.

The woman's flat reminded Irene of her house in Belgravia. It was much simpler and smaller yet it was elegant all the same. As soon as she entered the flat, she quickly made her way to the sofa. She removed her shoes and massaged her bruised feet. She sighed as her feet finally had time to rest.

"Would you like something to drink?" She heard the woman called out from the small kitchen at the end of the room.

"Tea would be lovely, dear." Irene replied.

She heard cabinets opening and the clink of teacups. She groaned as she stretched her legs, her toes curling. She leaned her head back on the sofa and closed her eyes while her body rested.

When she closed her eyes, her mind shifted to the girl she had helped. 'Saved' is a bit too much. It wasn't a matter of life and death. She hoped the girl have gotten to safety. Well, she _should_ because her feet were very sore and she was exhausted from all the running. She was going to have to find the man who must be restless at the moment. She smirked. Oh, how she missed _this_ kind of life... no, how she missed doing _these things_.

Her life has nothing to do with her old profession. Her life was _misbehaving_. She wasn't breaking rules. She was just not happy with them so she goes over it because she wants to, because she can. She suddenly remembered _his_ words just before he left her in the middle of Islamabad.

"_Don't ever think of going back to London._"

She smirked to herself at the thought of that last night. London is her home just as it is to him. You can't blame anyone for missing their homeland.

"Oi!"

She snapped her eyes open and peered to see the woman sitting on the other side of the sofa.

"Your tea is going to get cold." the woman pointed at the small cup on the table in front of them.

She licked her dry lips and reached for the cup. "Sorry..." Irene apologized.

"You steal my coat then my privacy. Now you're insulting my hospitality." the woman pouted.

"It's not my fault. You led me here. You said it was okay." Irene shrugged her shoulder and brought the cup to her lips.

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did."

"I never said anything about being okay with this!"

Irene placed the cup back on the plate and looked at the woman challengingly. "You know you did."

The woman looked away in defeat. "Fine."

Irene smiled.

"You and your mind." She heard the woman mutter.

"Why, thank you, dear."

The woman rolled her eyes. Irene took a sip. A few minutes passed, before the silence was broken. The woman stood up.

"Okay, I'm going to buy some things from the shop downstairs since you barged into my flat." The woman said, putting her coat on. "You need anything?"

Irene shook her head. "No."

"Okay, suit yourself."

Irene nodded. She took another sip while she listened to the fading footsteps of the woman from outside.

So the Late Sherlock Holmes was finally back in London. A small smile adorned her lips. She knew he wasn't dead. According to the text messages she gets from her contacts, a lot happened in the years after Sherlock Holmes was proclaimed dead. That was to her great relief because she knew he wasn't dead. She wondered how he presented himself to John Watson that he was not dead. She chuckled as she took one last sip of her tea. She may not know exactly what happened but she was sure it involved a good punch (she hopes it wasn't on his cheekbones) and a lot of curses.

She stood and went to the kitchen, rinsing the cup clean of tea. After placing the cup back in the cupboard, she leaned against the kitchen counter. How she missed the old times when she was still alive and free. Everything would have been fine and normal if she had not played the game. Except _he_ hadn't happened.

She shook her head. She got off the counter and wandered around the flat. The kitchen was by the short corridor where the door was. Then the living room followed and another corridor leading to the bedroom and the bathroom. Just as she was making her way to the bathroom she noticed something, a purple dress inside the woman's room.

Irene frowned. No, not a dress but a gown. Simple but elegant, she could imagine it. Probably for a wedding. Gowns are too formal for business attires. She's going to have to ask her when she gets back.

Minutes later, Irene heard he sound of the door unlocking. She didn't bother to look as she was sure it was just the woman. She kept on switching channels until she went through all of them for the third time. She gave up and turned the telly off. She threw her head back on the couch.

"Not much to watch?" the woman asked from the kitchen. The sound of plastic rustling heard in the flat.

"No." Irene replied. "Any news I need to know?"

A pause. "Have you heard of the man called Richard Brooke?"

Irene lifted her head, her eyes widened. No, Moriarty was dead. She doesn't need to panic. "I've heard of him."

"Well, they say he's a fake created by some man called Jim Moriarty. After that, not much happened."

Wow, they're pretty slow, eh? Took them two years to learn that? She rested her head again on the sofa. It wasn't long until she heard the footsteps of the woman, going to her room probably.

"By the way, what's with the gown?" Irene asked with her eyes closed.

"Oh, this?"

"Yes." Irene replied assuming it was the purple dress.

"Well, a friend asked me to be her maid of honour."

"So who's the lucky best man?"

"What's his name again?"

Irene chuckled.

"Ah! Sherlock Holmes!"

Irene's eyes flew open. She sat up straight. Her mouth hung open. She wasn't imagining things, was she?

"Who did you say was the best man again, Janine?"

"Sherlock Holmes, I think that was his name."

She leaned back down on the sofa, shocked by the sudden news. If Sherlock is the best man, then the groom must be...

"Who's the lucky couple then?" Irene asked.

"John Watson and Mary Morstan."

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**Reviews and comments are very much appreciated. Criticisms are welcomed. Some tips would be nice too.**

**Thank you for reading and for the lovely comments. ;D**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Dr. John Hamish Watson and Miss Mary Elizabeth Morstan.**_

_**Request the pleasure of your company at their marriage**_

_"Hamish. John Hamish Watson. Just if you were looking for baby names."_

The memory made her smile but then her mind told her to whom it was directed to, her and Sherlock Holmes.

She stopped herself from dwelling on that name before something happens. She just had a connection with a part of her mind that she had promised not to visit again. She knew that door was still open, taunting her with the dark smell of expensive male cologne. And she would not allow herself to go down that lane lest be swallowed by the monster within.

With that, she snapped back to reality. It was until then before she realized then she might have looked at the invitation a minute too long because Janine was now nowhere to be found.

"Janine?" Irene called.

She heard a shuffle from behind.

"Ah, so you've come back to Earth." Janine joked as she sat down beside her cousin.

Irene handed her the invitation. "Glad to know John Watson has moved on."

Janine glanced at the invitation before looking at Irene. "Client?"

"Dear god, no."

Janine squinted her eyes at Irene. Irene smirked at her. She was well aware that Janine knew of her old profession. They were best friends. Irene's parents were powerful mobsters well-known around the world thus they were rarely home, very rarely. Their parents were rarely home that it doesn't feel like home anymore. It was a mere house for living.

She had two siblings, a psychopathic older brother and an older sister that she had long forgotten. Her brother was always there but every time Irene looks into his cold blue eyes shivers went down her spine. All she saw was cold and cruel brilliance shining in his eyes and she told her younger self he was mad.

Thinking about her sister was not an option. She has no room for sentiment, not anymore, not in this world. Her sister had died, no, committed suicide. Irene never knew the real reason but she's got a feeling it was depression. Her sister was the only person who care about her, who she knew loved her.

Her sister had died way before Irene's uncle and aunt decided to take them under their wing. Unlike theirs, the household was warm and loving. After a long time, Irene felt loved again. She became close to them and started treating them as her family. Her aunt and uncle became her parents while her cousin, Janine became her sister.

She had forgotten of her real family. Her brother suddenly vanished after they supported his studies. Honestly, it didn't bother her much because he wasn't much of a brother anyway. So she stayed with them. She had a family, a mother, a father, and a sister who loved her dearly. Why should she leave?

In the end, she had to. One night her brother came back telling her the news. Their parents had died and they left their will to him stating she and her brother would inherit everything they had owned.

Two things struck her that night. One, their parents were dead. Two, they knew they only had two children left so that means they have been keeping tabs on them. That made her angry and happy at the same time. Happy that they somehow still cared about them and angry because they didn't even visit when her sister died.

Without hesitation, she went with her brother. Together, they ran away without saying a thing to her new family. At such young ages, they outwitted adults and managed to cope with the secretiveness of it all. They did have the blood of two of the most powerful people on the Earth. It was no surprise that they were cunning and capable of such things. Their captors chased them until they gave up because they finally realized they couldn't catch them.

What had happened to them made Irene realized that she was better than she thought. She learned to manipulate people. She learned to read people, look for their pressure points and use them to her advantage. It was through experience that she mastered this skill until she was able to read people like an open book. Time made she and her brother separate ways. Thus Irene Adler was born. She never saw him again and she never saw anyone from her past ever again. Though pieces of information about them that passed by her didn't go unnoticed.

"It's for a... case." Irene grinned.

"A case?" Janine's eyebrow rose. "So now you're a lawyer. Or is it a detective?"

Irene laughed.

"Don't give me that laugh." Janine stood and placed her hands on her hips.

"You know everything's not meant to be spoken." Irene winked.

"Yeah." Janine rolled her eyes. "Anyway, want to grab some lunch? We could go to Speedy's. It's just a few blocks away."

At the mention of the restaurant, Irene perked up with a small smirk. _Oh this is going to be interesting._

Of course, she saw him. When they were heading towards the café, Irene caught a glimpse of the detective walking around with his violin perched on his shoulder. He swayed, his eyes closed, his face calm and relaxed, his pale lips pursed as if he was humming, as if he was feeling the music. It wasn't long before he moved away from the window but a second was all she needed. Irene smiled before they crossed the street to get to the restaurant.

Her eyes lingered on the door of the flat beside it with the numbers 221B. She had an impulse to walk to it and knock. She wanted to see his face, to hear what he would say but she couldn't do that and she wouldn't. After having a hearty meal, they had coffee before they left the shop. Sadly, she didn't get the chance to see him once more but that was alright.

Janine had work the following day. Irene got bored by one in the afternoon. She got up and borrowed some of Janine's clothes since she only had the cocktail dress she wore when they had crossed paths. She decided to shop for a few clothes that would suit her. She immediately wore a shirt and trousers she had just purchased. She saw a coat that awfully reminded her of him albeit it was a different color. She bought it anyway.

It was close to dusk when she found herself on a familiar street. She smiled inwardly.

Baker Street.

She walked on the pavement opposite his flat. She walked slowly, strolling down the street with her arms full of shopping bags. When she got close enough, she looked at the window of his flat. The curtains were drawn but she could see his silhouette hunched over his laptop. A smile forced its way to her face again. She continued to walk.

Many people visited Sherlock Holmes after a few days. Different kinds of people all walking by to see the consulting detective but they were all the same. Sometimes they found him standing by the window. Sometimes he was walking around the flat probably thinking. Sometimes he was playing his violin. Once in a while they get the pleasure of seeing Dr. John Watson and his wife. D.I. Lestrade also comes around now and then.

They all observe him but he never observes them thoroughly. They came in different clothes and disguises but only one face remained underneath with a smile on her sinful lips and a light flush on her high cheek bones.

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"Oh my god!"

"Well?"

Janine spun away from the mirror and looked at her cousin. "It's..."

Irene waited.

"Beautiful! I love it!" Janine hugged Irene who patted the younger woman's back. "Thank you, Irene!"

Irene chuckled. "You know, it's going to be ruined if you're going to hug me that tight. I won't do it for a second time." she warned.

Janine pulled away immediately. "Okay, okay, I just love it so much!"

She took a look at the mirror again. Irene gripped her arms and looks over Janine's shoulder to look at the mirror. "Go, dear, or else you're gong to be late."

"Oh right!" Janine grabbed her purse and walked towards the door. "Are you sure you're going to be okay? I can tell Mary if you want to come."

"Don't bother about me. I'm fine. Go now." Irene reassured her. "By the way, don't be too hard on him."

Janine gave her a puzzled look. "Who?"

"The best man."

Janine smiled. "Thank you, Irene! Bye!"

Irene watched as Janine walked out of the flat. When she closed the door, she immediately went to take a shower because she was also attending a wedding.

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She made sure she arrived late, really late. The church doors were already closed when she arrived. Unfortunately, a grand entrance wasn't on the list or else she would ensure it would be really grand. She considered walking to one of the windows to take a look inside but she dismissed it. It was too risky. She would have to wait for the reception instead.

It wasn't long before the couple walked out of the church but the first thing she noticed was the stiff man, standing proud and tall beside the happy couple. She chuckled. He looked so tensed and disturbed. She shook her head. It must be hard for him since John was already occupied with something else. She watched from behind the tree as pictures were taken, flowers petals were scattered all over. Greetings of congratulations were said.

They all had smiles on their faces except for the tall detective. Then her lovely cousins started. She watched as her cousin worked her way into Sherlock Holmes's sociopath armor while he looked baffled and alarmed. _That's my girl._

The reception was starting. The guests were starting to be welcomed by the newlyweds. She saw a man who was waiting in the line. She watched as his eyes passed the detective and the man's whole demeanor changed. The signs all point to one answer and she knew the detective had seen it too. _Ah, an 'old friend' of the bride then. P__oor man, it must have hurt a lot._

The next few scenes shocked her. Her eyes widened when a boy suddenly came to him and hugged his torso. She squinted her eyes just to check if it was really what she was seeing. Sherlock Holmes and a child, now that's something new. Clearly, the boy likes him very much. The look on his face looks absolutely ridiculous. She laughed. She would say it was adorable though she wouldn't. She wondered what he did to the child.

A few minutes and she saw the detective on the phone. Judging from the change of expressions on his face, she knew it was Mycroft. It was a pity the older Holmes wasn't around. It wold have been fun to see The Iceman mingle with people.

While they were having their meal, Irene moved to a much closer location as in beside the door opposite the Presidential Table. She could hear the clatter of utensils against the plate, the voices of people conversing. She was close enough for the main event of the day. The best man's speech. She didn't have to see him when his speech started with his silky baritone voice. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could see him standing there, reciting the lines of his speech perfectly because she had seen him practice.

"The Bloody Guardsman..." he said.

She couldn't help but smile. She saw them, sitting on a park bench stiffly. John would occasionally look at Sherlock but _he _ would not move a muscle until he saw something. He, stealing a guard's bearskin and putting it on, was truly a sight to see. She then walked away when he had entered the Buckingham Palace under the bearskin. Ah, the Buckingham Palace. She remembered the day they had met.

She listened as he continued to speak of their adventures and how great the man named John Watson was until something happened. He stopped talking. She knew he would stop once in a while to take a breath or continue with his speech but this was different. A shatter of glass followed. That was when she confirmed something was amidst. She fought the urge to peek. Luckily, she stopped herself before something happened. It was awful, not being able to do anything. She wanted to see him because she knew something was wrong but she couldn't. All she could do was wait and listen to what was going to happen and that was what she did with a lot of effort.

Night came slowly. This time she moved to another location. Her previous place was blocked by speakers that were just set up for the night. Since it was nighttime, it was easier to hide. She could move around the event place. She was walking around, watching people inside as the speakers boomed.

Then it all stopped. She couldn't see much from where she stopped so she walked further until a familiar sound washed over her. She bit her lip. She knew who it was. She knew what it was. She had watch him play that song on his violin countless times. She was on the other side of the street but she could hear it although it was faint. Anyone on the street would have heard it but people didn't listen. They only hear but not listen. That's why only she heard it. She shivers went down her spine. Her mind flashed back to images of him playing his violin with his eyes closed, with deep concentration in his eyes as he wrote the song.

It was when the song ended before she could move her body. She saw him immediately. It wasn't hard to miss the man. He stood out from the rest because he was different. He was talking to the couple. Lip reading is a natural thing to her. She managed to picked up words in their conversation. Her hand flew to her mouth. Pregnant, then so they're now a family. Congratulations to the Watson family. That would also mean 'Uncle Sherlock'. Did Sherlock know what this would mean? She hoped he did.

He left them, hugging each other. She didn't need to look at other people, looking at him was enough. The smile on his face faded when Mary and John continued to dance as he slipped his armor back on. He looked around as if he was searching for someone and he was. A big smile broke on his face when his eyes laid on Janine. She followed his eyes and saw her cousin dancing, unfortunately, with someone else. She held her breath. His face fell and she almost saw a the pain of loneliness and sadness but he quickly hid it.

He turned around and walked towards the stage. _What is he going to do? _She followed him from the outside watching his every move, his face, his expression. Slowly he reached for the music sheet he left on the stand and slipped it inside an envelope. She bit her lip. His face told her he was fine but his body said otherwise. She quickly hid at the corner of the building, angling herself so that she could still see the entrance. She saw him, his pale face as passive as ever, his eyebrows furrowed. He flipped his bloody coat on and walked into the night. She knew what he felt, how he felt. She had an urge to step out and hold is wide hands in hers, to tell him everything was okay. She held back and forced herself to stop. All she did was watch him disappear around the corner alone.

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******I know this took a really long time. I'm really sorry. It's just that I couldn't find the right words to fill this chapter up so I had to wait a long time before I got the inspiration to write** **this down. Hope you liked it though. :)**

******Comment and reviews are appreciated. Criticisms are welcomed  
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	4. Chapter 4

**I know! It took a really really long time. I was really busy and when I actually got the time to write and post the internet crashed so...yeah... But don't worry I've already started on the next chapter so I might be able to post it by next week. Promise!**

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She doesn't understand why she was visiting him. No, she doesn't miss him, well, that was what she told herself. _She doesn't miss him._ But her actions spoke otherwise. She always found herself thinking of him. Her mind always conjured up his image so intricate and so real she could almost feel his presence beside her. Then when she had realized that he was invading her _space,_ she would quickly close the doors on his face.

It never goes past those images, only images, except for one time. There was no image of him, no trace of him only darkness. She sighed. Then it began with short breaths on her arm. She felt it trail up her shoulder, her neck. Hairs behind her neck stood up. She felt it. Short, heavy breaths tickling her skin, threatening to drive her off the edge.

_"Woman..."_

She quickly opened her eye and whipped her head back. she was alone. Janine had gone to work. No one was with her. She came to wonder how she felt his hot breath on her skin. Turns out she left the window open.

After the wedding, her visits to Baker Street increased though the numbers grew unconsciously. She would go to visit him when she was bored. Sometimes when she goes out to buy some Chinese takeaway or some from Speedy's she would glance at those curtained windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. On some times, she caught John Watson climbing up that short flight of stairs to reach into his pocket for his own set of keys. Greg Lestrade would come by too and she would wait until he goes down with the inspector to get on with the case. Sometimes he was at home, sometimes he was not but that was not surprising at all, of course.

On some rare occasions, she would get to see him personally. He was not alone though. It usually involved cabbies and John albeit she did get to see him alone a couple of times. And this was one of those rare times.

Janine was not home. She said she was going out with a friend so Irene was alone. Again. she was alone most of he time really that it didn't bother her. It became her favorite time. It was when she could think, when she could map things out or when she could just relax and marvel at the small things life has to offer (even if she was a dead woman).

It was dawn and Irene decided to make some dinner for herself but when she got to the refrigerator she found that Janine actually forgot to do the shopping yesterday. With a sigh, she grab her purse and went out to get some Chinese takeaway. She really had no preference on what to eat but she chose Chinese takeaway instead of the Italian restaurant just a few steps away from her cousin's flat. Of course, she knew that she would pass by Baker Street along the way to the Chinese restaurant but she reasoned that her taste buds were actually craving for some Chinese food which was also true.

When she was walking on the other side of the street, which she always does so as to maintain distance between them and to get a better view of his flat, a smile tug on the corners of her lips. She was standing a few meters from his flat but she could see it perfectly. She was about to cross the street when she saw the door open. She held her breath. What happened next made her blood gush to her ears, made her heart beat loud, made her eyes widen in surprise.

She was expecting a tall man with dark curly hair or a short blond man (it was really fascinating to her how opposite they were in appearance). Instead, the first thing she saw was smooth creamy legs, followed by a slender body adorned with a purple blouse and pencil skirt. Then the tall consulting detective stepped out after her. She felt a tug on her heart, her body blazed hot but she averted all her attention to the woman. She looked familiar, awfully familiar. She saw her face for a split second and a gasp left her mouth. She wasn't sure so she looked longer until she confirmed it. It was Janine.

She watched as Sherlock dip his head to whisper something in Janine's ear. She giggled and placing a hand on her back, he flashed a sweet smile. It was a bit disturbing to see him so... _normal,_ so _domestic._

"Excuse me."

She jumped a little and the man behind her walked pass her. She found the traffic light was flashing green. A gust of wind blew across her face. She pulled her coat tighter to her body and crossed the street. She's going to have to ask Janine about her 'friend'.

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Sunlight peeked through the curtained windows of the small guest room. Irene blinked a few times, shaking the sleep off her eyes. She stretched her arms and walked out of the room to make some tea. While she was waiting for the water to boil, she heard a door open. Crossing her arm across her chest, she turned around to lean on the kitchen table.

"Good morning." Janine chirped.

Irene smirked. "Good morning. Someone's in a good mood today."

"Kinda." Janine chuckled.

"Oh, does it involve a _friend_ of yours?" she smiled challengingly.

That made Janine laugh as she walked towards Irene. "Mm, no, whatever, not that you would believe me anyway."

Irene moved a little to let Janine take cup from the cupboard. "Well, that's because I know it is about this _friend._"

"Fine! It may be about my _friend._" she admitted as she made herself some tea. "Look, don't make a big deal about it. We just met."

"But you do like him, right?"

Janine raised an eyebrow at the word 'him'. Irene furrowed her eyebrows. "Obviously. You're not gay and believe me if you were, I would know."

Janine laughed. "Remember the best man at the wedding?" she asked before taking a sip of tea.

She pretended not to know. "That Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes, him. He asked me out."

"And?"

"And, well, I think it's good so far. I mean, he's a nice guy and sweet and funny and clever too."

Sweet? Sherlock Holmes, sweet? Now that was something she had never heard and had not expected to hear. She wondered what a sweet Sherlock Holmes would look like, how he would act.

"Yeah, he's sweet. Why?"

She realized she had actually said that aloud.

"Oh, you have met him before, right?" Janine asked.

"Sort of."

"So, Sherlock Holmes. What is he really like?"

"I don't know. How would I know?"

"Well, you're smart and you can figure out the personality of a person in just a few seconds."

If only Janine knew, if only she knew. "I only heard his name. I never met him."

"Oh, okay." she shrugged her shoulders. "By the way, I suggest make tea now..."

She laughed at the mental images forming in her mind as Janine shared her experience with the detective. But while she was listening to Janine half-heartedly, her brain was ticking endlessly. Why would Sherlock do this? Why would he suddenly take up a woman? Certainly, there was a reason for this but what?

_Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side._ Those words were the testament that he would never, never try to touch his heart. So what could possibly make the detective move along the edge of _sentiment?_ And why Janine?

She immediately dismissed the heavy feeling (which she refused to call jealousy) in her heart. It's for a case. She could almost hear his voice saying these words. _It's for a case..._ But what case could possibly require the detective to do this? Even Jim Moriarty didn't go that far and that deep. So the question was really, who was the opponent?

Days came and by. Irene still had nothing to do. She was well taking her time relaxing a bit, taking a break for a while. She didn't bother to go back to her flat since she honestly needed the companionship though Janine was very busy these days. Of course, she had work but this was something else. Work wouldn't require being away from home for the night. Work wouldn't require extra clothes that were really elegant and formal. So her theory was Sherlock Holmes.

She still hadn't manage to clear up the question of why. She really had no place to start on searching. Sometimes she had that itch to reach out to her phone and dial his number. There were times when her finger would hover centimeters over the screen but she would always nudge herself to snap out of it.

Janine was not home. As she had said, Janine was rarely home these days so she wasn't surprised. She was also sure she was with her 'friend' aka the world's only consulting detective. She wanted to tell Janine the truth that Sherlock Holmes was not that kind of man. But she didn't want to see her cousin, her best friend, brokenhearted because she knew that the younger woman was smitten by the tall, handsome detective. She knew that because Janine would always tell her the stories of their dates. She would tell her about how she loves his curly hair, his witty jokes, his sweet remarks and his oh-so-delicious voice as Janine had put it.

Irene went out to buy some tea from the shop. She, of course, passed by the Holmes and Watson flat though she doubted the latter had stayed. It must be a busy day in Baker Street because the older Homes brother was suddenly paying his little brother a visit. The knocker was straightened as opposed to the usual. No client would nor passerby would have dared to touch it. It wouldn't also be Greg Lestrade according to her observations whenever he was around. It wouldn't be anyone close to Sherlock because they would know it would irritate the man. So who would dare defy the detective? It might be a handful of people but she only knew three. One of them was Mycroft Holmes. The other two were not important since they were dead (she, of course, was one of them).

She smirked and made her way to the shop. After having bought the things she needed while Janine was preoccupied... She suddenly stopped. Mycroft was in Baker Street and no doubt Janine was also there. She chuckled. She wondered how the older Holmes would act if he found out what his brother was up to.

_Speak of the Ice Man._ Mycroft Holmes strolled down the stairs stiffly with a hand on his arm. His face showed nothing but tautness. She's fairly sure the cause for his arm was his own brother. She smirked. _Ah, sibling love..._ She slowly walked along the pavement, her eyes facing the direction she was walking to but never leaving the numbers 221B on the door. She watched as a black car sped from the corner and the older Holmes made his way to wherever.

Just as she was walking directly across his flat, another black car pulled up front. Three men with black suit opened the door on one side and out came a man. He was tall and was wearing grey suit. She immediately stopped in her tracks. She couldn't see his face but somehow a shiver went down her spine. She looked at him with great familiarity. For a moment, she managed to see the side of his face as he looked sideways to command his men. Her eyes widened, her mouth hung open with shock. She almost dropped her bag.

A few minutes passed after the door of 221B Baker Street was closed, she saw the silhouette of the consulting detective with another man she presumed was John Watson. They were talking, she knew they were talking with the tall man she saw earlier. Her throat tightened as her heart pounded quickly with anticipation. _Could it be...?_ She noticed movement from the other window. Her breathing hitched, her eyes widened more. For a moment everything stopped around her. She couldn't move nor think but a voice inside her head was telling her non stop,

_Charles Augustus Magnussen._

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**DUN DUN DUUUUUN! LOL Sorry about that. Anyway, reviews and comments are very much appreciated. Criticisms are welcomed. Some tips would be nice too.**


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